


Hero's Lament

by BurningBehindMyEyes



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon What Canon, Feels, Gen, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningBehindMyEyes/pseuds/BurningBehindMyEyes
Summary: Superman figures out that Robin isn't as bad as he originally thought, and a whole lot more broken.And no matter how powerful Superman is, he'll never be able to save everyone.





	1. If a Tree Falls

**Author's Note:**

> The fic I worked on instead of updating my larger, more important stories. Plot bunnies are nasty creatures.

Clark had officially decided that Ra's and Talia al Ghul were just not worth the trouble. Usually, they were just Batman's problem - unless they aimed for world domination again. Only then it became the problem of the entire League, but they had attacked League HQ specifically. While Batman and Talia dueled in some corner of the Watchtower, Superman and the others dealt with Ra's, sending him right back to wherever he came from. He was tired, physically and mentally. No matter how many powers he had, Ra's was usually one step ahead of them all. The al Ghuls were a dangerous bunch. Clark had heard rumours that Bruce had relations with Talia before, but he had no idea what came of it. He walked down the hallway leading to the boom tubes, raking a hand through his hair in sheer aggravation. He sighed heavily, footsteps heavy, the tunnels around him seeming to close in on him. The steel, combined the windows did nothing to ease the shaking restlessness within his bones, and Clark longed to just be back at the farm, the steady presences of the animals, Louis, and his sons to soothe his soul. He heard quiet breathing in a place it shouldn't have been, and Clark once more cursed his sensitive hearing. He'd probably have to go check this out too. He looked to the left, eyebrow raised, and spotted Robin sitting on the edge of the Watchtower, an oxygen mask on his face, his knees pulled up to his chest.

Clark had to admit, he didn't like the kid. This child had kidnapped his son, badmouthed Clark and Jon, and just generally been a very violent thorn in everyone's side the entire time the League had known him. Bruce didn't bring him around often for that very reason. But thanks to some messed up logic, the kid had been here for the fight. Clark sighed again and started towards one of the doors leading to open space. Even if he didn't like the kid, Robin still didn't deserve to be accidentally sent into space. Clark heard the hiss of the door as it opened, the grey steel surrounding him increasing the amount of restless agitation buzzing in his bones, shaking his whole frame. He tapped his foot impatiently, careful with his strength, as the first door sealed and the second opened, releasing Clark into open space. He floated forwards, heading to the left, where a short piece jutted out, on which Robin was perched. Clark came to a stop in front of the kid, raising an eyebrow.

Robin ignored him.

Clark sighed heavily. "Robin, you know you're not supposed to be out here. I thought you were supposed to be by the boom tubes, waiting for Batman to finish up." Clark stared down at the kid, as he raised his head. He was taken aback, blinking rapidly as he registered the kid's mask was off - _but his eyes were dead._

"She's my mother."

The response was small, quiet, and so more vulnerable that Clark was used to hearing from this child. He floated backwards slightly, uncrossing his arms and his eyebrows raising in disbelief, concern shining through. "She, want- oh." Clark's mouth turned down, eyes widening as he realized what the child was saying. Talia al Ghul was Robin's mother. Batman hadn't told them who Robin's other parent was, and since they had never seen her around, they assumed that perhaps Robin was a child out of a one-night stand.

But if his mother was a supervillain... no wonder it was kept from them.

"It's hard, being in the middle of a tug-of-war. They were fighting over who gets to keep me, again." Robin said, looking away. Clark's hand raised of it's own accord, stretching out for Robin. The child flinched from the hand, and Clark froze, like a deer in the headlights. "When she was torturing me, making me impervious to pain, making me bleed, making me stronger, making me scream... where were you?"

Clark felt like he could hear his heart shattering.

"You're supposed to have super hearing. You can hear heartbeats from miles, countries away, right? Where were you, why couldn't you hear me?" Robin stood, fingers tightening into fists, shaking at his sides. His uniform was bloody and torn and Clark couldn't help but think he was a soldier that even still hasn't returned from battle-

"You, Father, all the heroes here, you've done so many amazing things, you've saved so many people, why weren't you there? **Why was I the one person you couldn't save!?** " the child was screaming now, voice hoarse and broken, tears falling from his eyes, Clark hearing them hit the little outcropping. He floated closer, and the child snapped his head up, muscles tensing in preparation for a blow. Clark felt his hands shake, the familiar burning in his throat building up. He reached out, and the child ran, ducking under his arm and racing for the door. Clark whipped around, and watched him go. He wanted to go after him, chase after the yellow cape as it disappeared back into the Watchtower, and ran down the hallways, unlocking the boom tubes and disappearing into the one leading to Gotham. He wanted to follow him, demand... demand what?

Clark let him go.

He looked back into the emptiness of space. Where was he? He had been close to the League base plenty of times. He should've heard Robin. A little boy, screaming for help, begging with his mother to stop... the thought made Clark feel like he was going to throw up. He wasn't there. Had he heard the child and decided to ignore it in favour of something else? Had he doomed a child to a fate of blood and pain, just because he thought something else was more important? Had it been trivial? Had he even heard the child at all?

Clark looked back towards the boom tubes from the windows, seeing Batman sighing as he checked the logs, taking one to Gotham himself. He'd never know what transpired, and from what Clark had seen of their interactions, Batman and Robin didn't exactly talk.

If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?


	2. It'll Make a Sound to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark puts his foot down and Dami is unofficially adopted.

Clark took a breath. Once you knew who Batman was, it wasn't hard, _at all_ , to find his house and things about his kids. Clark learned that the public didn't know where Damian Wayne came from, they just knew that he wan't born in Gotham. They didn't know who his mother was, and they had very little information on Damian in general. Bruce had kept him out of the spotlight. Clark had eyed the deadly-looking security systems and decided to ring the intercom. An elderly man picked up the phone, and after explaining who he was and why he was there, Clark was allowed to enter the gates without having to fly through laser beams. But somehow, Clark doubted that flying into laser beams could be any harder than this.

He was in a pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt, a football tucked under his arm. Clark steeled himself - ahahaha, flashback to that one movie... that was actually pretty accurate - and knocked on the enormous door. He waited, listening to soft shuffles and murmurs before the door opened. When it did, Clark looked down, the butterflies finally stopping in his belly.

Damian looked smaller without the mask. His face looked rounder, his cheekbones more prominent. He looked younger, more vulnerable, but he looked no less like the soldier Clark knew he was. Clark tried to smile, the child dressed in a dark grey hoodie, a pair of black sweatpants, and with a pair of red headphones around his neck. When he spotted Clark, he shrank away, the door following.

"Oh- wait!" Clark stuck his foot between the door and the frame, smiling in apology as Damian reopened the door. Clark held the football out sheepishly, showing Damian it's uneven, brown surface.

"I haven't played since I was a kid." Clark lied. "Teach me how?"

He watched Damian analyze his face, gauge his sincerity, and Clark stood still, kept his face open.

"...Fine." the kid scoffed, turning back inside to holler at the butler, running to get his running shoes. Damian returned in a few short moments, looking up at Clark with a sort of distrust, but a sort of hope, too.

"We can go throw it around my house." Clark grinned. "I live on a farm, and I'm sure my two boys would love to join us." Clark clapped Damian's boulder as they walked away from the manor, the tension in Damian's shoulders lifting until he was truly relaxed.

In two weeks, Kon had already adopted Damian as his younger brother. In four, Jon and Damian were inseparable. In six, Louis found out what Damian's mother was like, (and how, Clark didn't know) got her number, and screamed bloody murder at Talia for two hours straight. In eight weeks, Damian moved the majority of his things and his pets to the Kent's farm, another bed being bought to go into Jon's room to accommodate him. In ten weeks, Bruce demanded his son back, finding and physically dragging Damian back to his Batmobile. The boy had struggled, and in a heartbeat, Kon had ripped Damian out of Bruce's grip, Jon had Damian bridle-style in his arms, stepping back and flying back towards the house, and Clark had angrily taken Bruce aside, nodding for Kon to go back to the house. As soon as his son took off, Clark got in Bruce's face, snarling.

"You have no idea what that woman did to him-"

"I know perfectly well! He's my son, and-"

"Your son? Your son?! You abandoned him!"

"When have I ever?! I resurrected him!"

"And then left him alone!" Clark screeched, finally feeling his eyes begin to burn, the red glow reflected on the cowl's shiny surface. "You missed his thirteenth birthday, you abandoned him emotionally, you almost never showed up, and you were never physically, emotionally, supportively _there_ for him! You weren't there for him." Clark's voice was low, hissing. "Louis, my boys, and I consider him as one of our own. You should see him with the animals - he's so good with them. Do you even know he likes animals?"

"Of course I know he likes animals-"

"Or that his favourite colour is purple, he really, really, really loves Louis' quishe, he hates the smell of coffee, he likes chai tea the best, and his favourite chicken is the newest and he named her Abigail. You don't know your son." Clark watched Bruce's mouth narrow. "I've known Damian for all of two and a half months, and I already know all that about him. Kon probably knows more and Jon is the most aware of all of us, but you ignore him and scold him for making friends and know next to nothing about him."

A downturn to Bruce's mouth, and Clark knew he'd won.

"Clark, I-"

"Get out." Clark's voice was cold, unflinching and unfeeling. "And let Talka know that she's dead if she comes anywhere near him again. I know she told you he was here, you wouldn't have come on your own. I might not be the one to kill her, but all my boys and Louis seem more than willing some days." Clark declared, watching the smalll nod of Bruce's head. The man turned on his heel, cape billowing out from his body as he walked back to the Batmobile. He paused for a moment, looked towards the house, and Damian stood facing a window, draped in a purple blanket with a small red hen in his arms, Kon and Jon by his side. Louis came into view, tea steaming from mugs in her hands. The boys all accepted the drink politely. Bruce watched Damian thank her, reading his son's lips.

Bruce shut the door of the Batmobile and didn't look back.

Clark re-entered the house, gathering Louis and his boys into a hug.

His sons... all **three** of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you liked it! ;)


End file.
